Crossing Lines
by Doskias
Summary: When a small town's only human comes back from the big city, he brings trouble home with him. Rated for mild innuendo in chapter 2.
1. Seeds of Discord

**Crossing Lines**

_Author's Notes: You know, sometimes you just want to break away from the norm and write something light. And buttery._

The sun had almost set, and still she waited.

After all, Goldie had no idea when Maler would get back from the city. She was actually quite certain she'd never see Hirocco's only human resident again, but her best efforts and pleading eyes failed to rouse the town into forming a search party.

"_He'll be back in a few hours," _Hopper had grumbled at her.

"_Well, who knows when that's going to be?"_ The fear in her bright eyes hadn't changed the surly penguins mind, nor anyone else's, so she returned and kept vigil in front of the town gate. Minutes passed, then an hour, then another, and Goldie found herself sitting beneath an apple tree.

Finally, just after the sun sank and lights flicked on at the nearby Town Hall, a great horn blew. _Someone's coming! _she realized. She sprang to her feet and yipped. _It must be him!_ Her excitement boiled over when a figure appeared in the entranceway. It was a man, no doubt about that, but his face and torso were obscured by the over-sized plastic crate he was carrying, with bags and small boxes balanced precariously on top.

Goldie's excitement boiled over when she spotted the spiky green hair poking over the carton. "Maler!" she shouted. She bolted to his side, no thought given to calming herself. "You're back!"

"Hrmf Grdy," Maler gibbered from hind his burden and he started southeast, toward his house.

He walked on, and Goldie cheered and barked, running circles around the human. "Where'd you go? Was the city big? What'd you buy? Did you bring presents? Anything for me? Hm?"

Maler grunted and gently sent the crate down, revealing a fist-sized hole in the top. "Not now Goldie, please. I just want to go home and rest." He gathered his things, and went on his way.

Goldie stopped in her tracks and tilted her head. "But… but," she whimpered softly to no avail. The usually cheerful human was already away, over the next hill. "…no presents?"

* * *

Just before ten o'clock that night, Cheri answered a knock on her door. Without invitation or warning, Goldie pushed past her friend and immediately related the awful story. Naturally, Cheri was shocked by the whole ordeal, and decided that a proper investigation was in order.

So off they want, plucking Gwen from her garden and filling her in on the details along the way. She, too, found Maler's behavior to be absolutely reprehensible, and thought the only thing to do was get an apology - by force, if necessary.

When the girls arrived on Maler's doorstep, Cheri wasn't the first to wonder, but she was the only one who voiced, "Well, what do we do?"

"We get our apology, of course," Gwen assured her. She'd adopted Goldie's grief as her own, and slammed her flipper against the wooden door.

No response. She counted to ten, and knocked again. And again. All said, a full five minutes passed before Goldie asked, "Now what?"

"Here," Gwen said, gesturing for the girls to follow her to the side of the window. She peered inside, and saw Maler clear as day. He was on his black and white couch (_on yellow carpet! _Gwen scoffed), laughing almost to tears. But they couldn't figure out why he was laughing - he didn't own a television or radio, and he wasn't reading a book.

"He's off his nut!" Cheri exclaimed, and Maler's head jerked in her direction. His joyous look twisted into a fierce glare, and he stomped over to the window. Gwen waved innocently, but he swiftly drew his blinds.

"Well, I _never!_"

* * *

The next morning came and nearly went before Maler was seen outside again. By then, every animal in the village had heard increasingly warped versions of the previous night's events. Bill was still reeling from the revelation that Maler was, in fact, a vampire and had tried to feed on Goldie and her companions.

But the day moved on like most did. The animals milled about, exchanging furniture, swapping shirts, and trading gossip as usual. Maler barely noticed that his neighbors were consciously avoiding him as he slung his shovel over his shoulder and started off toward the northeast corner of town.

As he walked by, he didn't see the brown duck hiding behind an apple tree, shaking, wondering if his own blood would prove tastier than Cheri's or Goldie's.

* * *

**Ka-thunkt!**

Maler cheered as his shovel finally connected with something. He'd spent the better part of an hour in this field, searching for anything - hidden bells, fossils, and such - that might be worth having. And it looked like he'd lucked out after all.

He began to dig around the object, being careful not to damage his hard-earned finding, when he heard chattering from the south. Gwen and Ribbot, jawing about anything and everything on their minds, strolled over a far hill. Maler set his shovel aside, wiped the sweat from his brow, and called out to them.

Ribbot just shook his head, and Gwen defiantly thrust her beak in the air. "Hmph," was the only syllable that escaped her.

Maler cocked a brow and stared after them. He didn't waste much time thinking about it, though, and focused on retrieving his porcelain prize.

"And then he shuts the curtain on us!" Cheri huffed, her cheeks growing redder with anger. "Needless to say, I was appalled."

"Hm, mm-hmm," was the only reply she elicited from the tanuki shopkeeper as he counted her money behind his register. "Ah, 800 bells, exactly!"

**Ding-a-ling!**

Their attention was pulled toward the door, through which Maler was backing in, dragging a dirty toilet onto Nookington's plush carpeting.

"Tch," spat Cheri as she carried her rolled up carpeting under her arm and stomped out, purposefully avoiding Maler's gaze.

Tom shook his head and got Maler's attention. "That'll be fine, you can just leave that there, hm?" He began to talk price with the busy human, never once asking where the boy had found the toilet.


	2. Horror Comes Home

**Crossing Lines**

_Author's Notes: Sometimes I wonder what exactly is going on in my head when I get ideas like this one. I try not to think about it too much, though. I will note that this was __**not**__ supposed to be this long, and I think it may have suffered more than it benefited for the detail.  
_

**2: Horror Comes Home**

Nearly a week passed since the much-talked-about incident, and it was forgotten by most. Even Bill had come to realize (after Hopper pointed it out to him) that Maler was no undead drinker of blood - he came out in the daylight, after all, and seemed to enjoy garlic well enough.

But trespasses are hard forgiven, and never forgotten, and Goldie still bore a grudge against the human for hurting her feelings so deeply. As time went by, she tried to rally her neighbors to her cause.

"Look at him," she told Tank. "Shaking those empty trees all day. What kind of weirdo does that?"

"Everyone does that!" Tank retorted. "Once, (oh man, it was cool!) I shook a tree, and an entire chest of drawers fell out! I worked my muscles so hard getting that home!"

Goldie shook her head, walking off. And so it went: she went all 'round the town, pointing out all of Maler's eccentricities and being rewarded only with blank stares and shrugged shoulders. Didn't anybody understand how mean Maler was, and how much he should have to pay for that?

Of course, it wasn't long before the other animals started becoming put off by Maler. Ever since he brought that strange package home, he seemed to have less and less time to devote to his friends. And on the rare occasions someone managed to catch up with him, all he would take about were his great days "back home," and how life was so different, and in some ways better, where he came from.

More often than not, though, he stayed cooped up in his two-story house all day, only coming out to do business with Nook and to take out his trash - which seemed to double in quantity since his trip to the city.

Without Maler to keep things flowing, the town began tearing apart at the seams. Animals began developing backlogs of borrowed items, never knowing when to return them, or even to whom! Furniture collected dust in corners of unvisited houses, and fruit began to spoil on the trees. It was chaos, and someone needed to answer for it!

* * *

Another week passed, and Goldie called an emergency town meeting at The Roost to discuss what was to be done to prevent Hirocco's spiraling into madness. Progress was slow, and everyone agreed that the real talk shouldn't begin until everyone had at least a round of coffee. Brewster was quick to oblige, seeing bells practically flowing out of their pockets.

"I want to thank you all for coming," Goldie said for the second time, and the chatter settled down. "You all know why we're here: our neighbor, Maler the human, has been acting really weird lately."

"_Really_ weird!" Cheri chimed in. The small crowd rumbled in agreement.

"Ever since he left for the city, he's been all weird," Goldie went on, and heads nodded all about the room. "Always shut away in his house, carrying on about who-knows-what, talking about how he misses his precious human neighbors and human customs and human food!" She stood up shouted at the top of her voice. "Well, we're just as good as any humans! We made this town the way it is - we planted the trees and the flowers, and we pick the weeds! We deserve respect!"

Her ranting was met with the applause of all, save one. Hopper spoke, "Actually, Maler does all of those things," he pointed out. The room fell silent. "Except for Gwen, I've never seen a one of you plant anything in all the years I've lived here." Everyone was stunned, and Goldie took the comments like a physical blow.

"Yeah," Tank started, "But we're the ones who taught him how to do those things!"

"That's right!" Goldie exclaimed. "Where would Maler be without us? What would he eat? What would he wear? We are the pillars of this community, and it's high time he recognizes that!"

The others all cheered her on, save again for one moody penguin. "And what, exactly, do you want to do about it?"

"Make him apologize?" Gwen offered.

"Be really mean to him, and see how he likes it," Tank said, crossing his arms confidently.

"Run him out of town!" Goldie shouted.

"Hit him with a rock!" Once more, the room fell silent. All eyes were on the source of the voice: Bill. "Um… I mean… Make him apologize!" Cheers rang out again, and another round of coffee was ordered - there were plans to be made this night.

The meeting went on well into the night, and didn't end until midnight - well after respectable animals should be in bed. But Goldie knew it was now or never. If she gave her neighbors time to sleep on their decision, the mob frenzy might wear off, and she'd never get her reparations.

So they marched, side-by-side, their path lit by the torch Tank carried. "Wh-Where did you get that?" Bill asked nervously.

"Oh, I keep it around," Tank replied nonchalantly. "For occasions like this."

"O-oh. Well." Bill slowly allowed himself to file to the back of the line, though not in fear of Tank's fire; he began to reconsider the possibility that Maler really was a nocturnal beastie of some kind, and thought it best that he not be in easy biting range when they arrived at his house.

And on Maler's doorstep Goldie again stood - waiting impatiently for her sadly out-of-shape mob to catch up. _I really wish Copper would start giving fitness lessons again. These guys need it. _She shook her head. _No time to worry about that now, _she reminded herself, and banged a paw on the front door. "Open up, Maler! We want answers!" The human didn't reply, and Goldie became furious. "Open this door right now! I'll force it open if I have to!"

Still no response, and she motioned for Tank to step forward. He handed off his torch to Hopper and slammed his weight against the door. It gave easily, every animal gasped in unison at the sight that stood before their eyes.

"Oh my gosh!" Someone shouted. "She's naked!"

"Why is she on all fours like that?"

"I… I knew humans had… but…"

"What is she _doing with her tongue?"_

Maler, in shock, moved to obstruct their view, but it was too late - they could see everything. Before them all stood Sara, his pet Labrador, lapping water happily from a silver dish on the floor.

He knew they'd react this way, but the young human also knew he had a lot of explaining to do.


End file.
